


Come Undone

by enefasparable



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Shameless Smut, Star Labs Secx Yaaaaas, WestAllen Smut Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 17:31:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4188687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enefasparable/pseuds/enefasparable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry Allen and Iris West getting it on in Star Labs. Prompt for Day 1 (Masturbation) of Westallen Smut Week!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Undone

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so happy it's WA smut week. I hope you enjoy this fic! It's un-beta'd, but I tried to catch all the inconsistencies I could. Please leave comments / kudos, if you like!

Barry hunkered over a desk lit by solitary lamplight, papers strewn about its surface haphazardly, his thoughts a scattering of disjointed concerns surrounding the discovery of a new metahuman. This new villain had managed to hit establishments in every corner of Central City without leaving so much as a fingerprint behind. Barry pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a rough sigh that reverberated throughout Star Labs’ empty confines.

This was the sixth all nighter he was pulling _this week_. Would remaining vigilant help, at all? How was he supposed to catch a criminal that literally left no trace?

_zzz. zzz._

His phone vibrated noisily atop the desk, its screen alight with a caller’s information:

_Iris West. 515-123-0034._

Barry ducked his head, rubbed the back of his neck, and fought the urge to reach for his phone. I mean, he could’ve answered. Told her just how much he missed her. How sorry he was that he was skipping dinner, again. How much he hated having to crawl into bed long after she’d fallen asleep, her body curled into his side of the bed like she could somehow will him back to her.

The call went to voicemail, and Barry typed out a quick message: _Hey Iris. It looks like it’s going to be another late night. I’m sorry._

He hesitated before pressing send, feeling all the more cowardly for not having the nerve to call her back. She hated when he texted her, despite being totally available to talk. The only time they ever even sent texts was when things were tense; one of them angry over something silly, neither capable of being the bigger person. And it always ended with the two of them apologizing at the same time, sheepish smiles and soft hugs replacing the once awkward distance between them.

He sighed, downing what was left of his Jitters coffee, and sent it off. He’d think about it later, after all this work was done.

But later came a lot sooner than he thought. His phone buzzed again, a response to his first message.

_I see._

_Craaaaaap_. She was angry. Clipped texts always meant she was angry. He worried at his bottom lip before shoving the phone underneath a pile of papers, unable to bring himself to respond. She had every right to be upset.

He distracted himself by chipping away at his work for a while, digging through reports and cross referencing them on Star Labs’ machines, jotting down quick notes and running tests on chemical compositions that might shed some light on their new metahuman foe. He was so deeply buried in his work that he almost missed the security system alerting him to a new entrant.

_Security clearance granted: Iris West._

He turned quickly, eyes trained on the entryway monitor, and was surprised to see her standing there.

“Bar, I’m coming in,” she announced. The metal doors slid open to accept her, and he heard the resounding _clack_ of her black pumps echoing from down the hall before she made it through the first hallway.

“Shit,” Barry whispered under his breath. He began pacing, smoothing one hand quickly through his hair as he went, and rehearsed halfassed excuses under his breath. _Iris, this new metahuman is_ really _bad news. I was going to come home, later, I swear … and I was going to bring dinner, and --_

He didn’t get to finish cycling through them. Iris rounded the corner to Star Lab’s main chamber, her sharp eyes settling directly on him, hand planted firmly on one hip, brown trenchcoat cinched tightly around her waist.

“Iris, I can explain -- ”

“No need.” She smiled gently, gazing at him through curly tendrils that cascaded down her shoulders. “Bad, untraceable metahuman. Caitlin’s on vacation with Ronnie, Cisco’s spending some time with his brother.” She said each word while rounding his messy desk. “Means more work for you, right?”

“Right,” he said. “But I promise after this week, no more late nights. I’ll be home early. I’ll -- I’ll even fix dinner!”

The grin that stretched itself across her lips was enough to light his soul.

“How thoughtful of you, Barry Allen.”

He grinned happily, glad to have diffused the situation. “Well, I aim _do_ aim to please.”

“Good,” she said. The word was strangely clipped, cut off, hanging on a precipice and laden with some secret meaning that only touched her eyes. He waited for her to continue, to unfurl whatever it was she was hiding.

“Do you know why that’s good?”

He raised an eyebrow slightly. “Be … cause … ?”

“Because,” she continued, untying the knot around her waist, “that’s what you’re doing tonight.”

Barry would’ve mustered words if that were possible, but all sense left his mind when her coat slid softly to the floor.

Iris West was _naked_.

Well, practically naked, anyway.

A bright lavender bra, comprised of see-through lace that exposed the skin of her breasts, hugged her beautifully; the delicate latticework peaked slightly around her dark nipples as they strained against the fabric, erect and pert with her arousal. His eyes traced her skin, mouth going dry, as he followed the frilly piece downward. A thin stretch of fabric trailed down her stomach, connecting to a matching set of panties that traced lacy patterns across her waist. Words fled his mind; he was a blank slate, frozen under her gaze.

“Sit down,” she commanded softly, her voice a purr.

He almost did … before stumbling slightly and realizing that there wasn’t actually a chair behind him. He sped back to his desk and stood stiff as a rod (in more ways than one) behind it.

“I -- I um, there are cameras --”

“That record footage of everything that goes on in here,” she finished for him, winking. She turned, adjusting the lacy underwear that hugged her ass (and to give him another lingering view of her). “You can erase it, right Bar?”

“God yes,” he said. “I mean, yeah. Yes, yes. Definitely. Erased. Not a trace.” He gulped, feeling himself strain against the fabric of his jeans. “Whatever you need. Or want.”

She turned again. “First, I want you to clear off your desk.”

The air whipped around her in a frenzy, accompanied by little threads of lightning that buzzed past her. The desk was spotless in under a second; then, Barry appraised her from underneath long lashes. Before she could utter another word, the air around her parted again, and then she was tangled tightly in his embrace.

“God, Iris. You look amazing,” he whispered hot against her ear. His tongue trailed wet paths against the skin there, forcing an audible moan from her lips. “And you’re here, looking like that, making me want you so goddamn -- ”

But she pushed him back lightly.

“Bar, I said: sit.”

He backed away from her slowly, eyes hooded with lust. “Okay.”

The chair squeaked as he sank back into it, then the room was filled with silence again. She just stood there appraising him, a vision in warm tones of brown that tugged at his very core.

“Is this your way of torturing me?” He teased, a little laugh bubbling up.

“Yes.”

Her eyes were bright, wanting. But she was serious.

She was freaking _serious_.

“Oh.”

One heel clacked slowly in front of the other as she approached him. Then, without hesitation, she spread herself across the glass desk gently, her body like an offering unto him. Golden and warm, she practically glowed underneath the dim lighting.

Barry felt a shiver run through him as she traced the thin fabric constraining her breasts gently.

“This is my way of torturing you for leaving me home alone, horny, and missing you.”

“Iris -- ” he breathed, “You think I wanted to be away from you? God, I -- ”

His breath caught as she began to knead one pert nipple between her fingers, moaning softly under her own ministrations. She hitched herself up, meeting the small twists and pulls of her delicate fingers with delicious gentleness. Barry stretched out his hand gently, desperately wanting to tug the fabric down, to free the warm brown expanse, slide it into his mouth, worry it between his teeth while she shook and shuddered underneath him. But she slapped away his hand before he could meet her flesh.

“Ah, ah, Mr. Allen. No touching.”

The pained noise he gave hovered somewhere between a moan and an unhappy grumble.

“Iris, _please_ \-- ”

But she wasn’t listening. Instead, she tugged down the lacy fabric covering her breasts herself, exposing the pert skin there. Licking her finger delicately, she trailed wet circles around the hard nub, delighting in the soft thrills of pleasure that rocked through her as she passed over the silky mound again and again. She moaned underneath it all, pressed herself into the cool glass table, and rubbed her thighs together in an effort to tend to the throbbing place between her legs. The desk shook gently underneath her ministrations, colliding with the sound of her moans in a melodious chorus, and causing Barry to throb thickly inside his boxers. The fabric there gathered around the head of his cock, wet with sticky precum that came in little pulses as he watched her unravel.

“Barry,” She moaned, her other hand traveling down the thin fabric covering her belly. It settled atop her warm center before sliding slowly downward, her hand lightly grazing the warm expanse of her wetness. “Do you like watching me?”

He met her eyes then, her heart hammering. In all her power games with him, this was a _real_ question, huddling quietly underneath a thin layer of fear. _Did_ he like what she was doing? Would he be upset that he couldn’t touch her?

He let out a breathy sigh, wanting now more than ever to touch her. To reassure her.

“God, I -- Iris, I can barely _speak_. I -- ”

“I love you, too” she returned, knowing that’s what he was going to say. Her smile became confident again as she rubbed soft circles into the skin covering her clit.

She raised herself slightly, pulling the material down her warm thighs, exposing soft brown curls to the cool air. Her middle finger snaked forward then, moving slickly to part her warm folds. She arched, a languid moan emanating from her, as her finger found the erect little bundle of nerves that drove her over the edge. Barry watched her intently, his hand smoothing gently over his cock in time to her rhythms, their moans melting together throughout the quiet space. His jeans still covered him, but the feeling was enough to tide him over while she worked her finger in small circles across the wet space.

“Fuck,” she whispered sweetly while worrying her bottom lip between her mouth.

Barry’s hips began to move in his seat, thrusting gently to meet his the speed of his own ministrations. But Iris kept a steady pace, wanting to make it last -- her breasts swayed gently as she circled her hips in time with her hands, each little pass across her clit sending warm jolts of molten pleasure throughout her body. She rocked against herself, fingers then finding warm purchase inside the folds of her vagina.

“God, Iris,” Barry breathed, watching her fingers thrust in and out of herself quickly. “Are you going to stop?”

“No,” she keened, fucking herself faster.

“You sure?” he teased, practically palming himself through his pants, hips twisting and rising to push out his pleasure as he touched himself. “You sure you aren’t going to stop?”

“No,” she practically screamed.

Her fingers pumped in and out of her wet center; she curled and turned them deliciously inside of herself, the movement rubbing her in all the right ways, sliding and careening into the slick walls of her vagina, her hips bucking to meet each thrust with a heady moan.

Barry stood quickly, feeling himself begin to come undone just by the sight of her. He removed his pants and boxers in a flash, finally freeing his throbbing cock that stood warm against his belly. He knew the rules of this game well enough, but decided to bend them only _slightly_.

Iris was lost within herself, lost underneath the sensation of undulating while he watched. But something brought her out -- his breath hot against her ear.

“You look so wet, Iris.”

She shook then, the added mixture of her fingers and his body so close to hers enough to make her come right then and there.

Barry gripped himself firmly, pumping and thrusting into his hand while he crooned dirty sayings in her ear, across the skin at her neck, hovering right over her nipples, low commands against the tight fabric against her stomach. He was everywhere and nowhere all at once, a presence that pushed her toward the edge without even _touching_ her. Suddenly, it wasn’t her who had control anymore.

Barry positioned himself between her legs then, touching her briefly to spread them wide. She began to protest, withdrawing her fingers from herself, but was cut short by the quick motion of him pulling her toward the table’s edge so that their bodies were painfully close. He stared at her then, flushed cheeks dark breasts and arms stretching to rub her center once again, and fucked himself so that she could see what she’d done to him.

Her mouth went agape as she watched him, rubbing and thrusting and kneading himself in front of her with loud gasps that bore her name: _Iris_. He was so close, the tip engorged and covered in wet precum that he used to smooth down his length again and again, circling so that his hand milked every last drop.

Their eyes met then. It was over. The pleasure was too much to contain for this long.

She shot up, so that she might gaze up into his eyes, and began to rub fast, jerky movements across her clit in successive movements. They undulated together, their eyes trailing between their bodies and bucking movements, caught up in the haze of lust and love that marked them both. Iris felt herself warm all over, pushed herself again and again into the frenzied rhythm of her fingers, moaning with abandon and gripping the desk’s edge for purchase as she felt her orgasm beginning it’s onslaught.

Barry couldn’t help himself. He _had_ to break their cardinal rule.

He pushed two vibrating fingers into her then, curled up, rapidly buzzing and fucking and twisting inside of her while she quickly rubbed and worried her at clit between soaked fingers.

Iris screamed. Literally _screamed_.

Blood rushed to every part of her, swelling her nipples once more, coloring her cheeks, reddening the sweat stained skin of her body as she fucked his fingers and her own while coming hard against his and her fingers together.

“Fuck,” Barry whispered. He watched her twist and undulate, hitching into his chest; she screamed and shuddered against him, riding out that intense pleasure with the rocking of her hips and jagged moans against him. She sucked and nibbled the skin there, begging him to come too in breathy whispers and strained pleas. The hand on his cock shifted then as Barry began to rub and twist out long, fast pumps. He leaned forward, whispering into her shoulder as his heart thrummed madly.

“Fuck, I’m going to come -- ”

Iris also broke the rule; she took the fingers that’d been inside her and lifted them quickly to her mouth, sucking hard on the moisture that drenched them. He moaned louder, watching her tongue snake between his fingers, feeling her bite the tips of them, her eyes never leaving his, and came hard thrusting into his own hand. Hot streaks of his orgasm painted his hands, her stomach, the desk, anywhere it could feasibly land. He rode out his orgasm, pumping and drawing ragged groans from himself until the two of them were sticky with sweat and the smell of their bodies, pressed together.

Iris smiled.

“ _Damn_ , Barry Allen. Maybe you shouldn’t come home more often.”

They laughed quietly, basking in the afterglow. Barry captured her lips between his, hugging her to him.

“Or maybe you should just come to Star Labs in your lingerie more often,” he teased.

She looked around, and then up at the security cameras littering the place.

“We should seriously delete that footage before we forget and leave it there for Cisco and Caitlin to find.”

Barry nodded. “Yeah. Definitely.” He curled his fingers between hers, pecking soft kisses against her forehead. “Um, there’s a shower downstairs, near the fitness room, if you wanna clean up. I’ll delete the footage and then join you?”

She kissed him gently. “Perfect.”

She rose shakily, retrieving her pumps (which had of course fallen off without either of them even noticing) and coat from where it’d fallen earlier. Barry began typing a series of commands onto the computer, prepared to wipe all footage from the evening, before Iris called for him from the doorway.

“Bar … ”

“Yeah, Ire?”

“Save us an individual copy though, will you?”

She winked, and Barry tried to keep his jaw from hitting the floor.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” He called after her retreating form.

Her laughter emanated from down the hall. “I love you, too, you adorable nerd.”

 


End file.
